


i don't know anything but i know i miss you

by thegreenfairy246



Series: it's the right time to roll to me [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cheating, Divorce, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Protective Tony Stark, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:41:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreenfairy246/pseuds/thegreenfairy246
Summary: after your divorce, there's really nothing stopping you from being with bucky–except, maybe there is.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: it's the right time to roll to me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118729
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	i don't know anything but i know i miss you

**Author's Note:**

> this is about kinda the aftermath of cheating? so know that before you read. i hope y'all like it!

Two weeks later, you're in an apartment that's not yet your own. Tony had found it for you. He'd called it a place to hide away while the press had their fun–splashed the news of your divorce on every front page. You could barely go outside. Bruce was no longer speaking to you. You couldn't say you blamed him.

The apartment was meant to be a place to start over, if you liked it enough, but the rooms were still too cold, the air too stiff–nothing felt like you. 

It's not that you're not comfortable–Tony had gotten all your things delivered here before you'd even moved in. It's not that the apartment isn't gorgeous.

Deep down, you know it's because you're lonely–bone crushingly lonely.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by the blaring of a car horn. You look out your window, spot a car parked in front of your house. You'd told Tony it wasn't necessary, but he'd sent a car for you anyway.

You glance in the mirror as you walk out, one last chance to make sure you're ready to face Bruce. You spend the car ride gearing up, preparing. When the car slows to a stop, you're finally feeling good about the meeting.

It stops you cold when you walk in and see Natasha sitting at Bruce's side.

Tony had hired you the best lawyer he could find, had paid for everything. Now, here you are, lawyers all around you, but you can't bring yourself to tune in. They're throwing numbers back and forth, arguing over the smallest parts of the life you'd shared with Bruce. Your focus is completely on Bruce and Natasha.

You think back to the rage he had turned on you–how bad he'd made you feel. But here he is, Natasha's hand curled around his bicep, looking at her the way he used to look at you.

It shouldn't hurt you the way it does. After all, you'd done the same thing to him. You sit across from them, trying to swallow the bitterness rising in your throat.

You manage it, for a while. You sit, listening vaguely to the figures the lawyers are so particular over, until you can't anymore. You're not sure what it is, but you can't stop yourself from blurring out, "Are you kidding me?"

Everyone stops talking, turns to look at you. 

"You had the nerve to treat me the way you did, when you were doing the same thing!" You chuckle. "You acted like I was this, this," you gesture wildly, searching for the right word, "this horrible, awful, person that had hurt you so badly. You didn't think to turn some of that on yourself?"

Bruce sighs. You can see him tighten his grip on Natasha. "Y/N…this isn't the place."

"No, I think this is exactly the place. That's what we're doing here, right? Untangling our lives? I think this is exactly the kind of thing I need to know before we can separate."

Natasha moves away from Bruce, leans across the table. "I think he made it pretty clear. He doesn't want to talk about it here."

You assume Natasha is trying to be helpful, the supportive girlfriend. In the end, she's only turning your anger onto her. 

"Nat, considering you're the one my husband was having sex with, I think it'd be better if you just…," you shrug, "didn't speak."

The way her eyes narrow and her head tilts, you can see she's about to respond. Bruce sets a gentle hand on her shoulder, leans in to whisper in her ear. You watch as she deflates, the anger slipping away like it was nothing at all. It makes you wish for Bucky.

The spell of your anger broken, you murmur an apology, and sink into your chair. You're lost in thoughts of Bucky until your lawyer gives you something to sign, then sends you on your way.

There's a car waiting for you outside, the same one that brought you. You slide in the backseat, click your seatbelt into place, and let the movement of the wheels lull you into complacency.

Later, you're back in your apartment again, wandering empty hallways. You want to call Bucky, but every time you start to dial his number, you see his tear stained face and it stops you. Anyway, you're almost positive he doesn't want to see you now–not after your choice had plastered him on magazine covers everywhere. Instead, you only shower and go to bed early.

In the morning, you wake to a phone full of missed notifications. Between people tagging you on social media and unread texts, you're sure something awful has happened. The most recent is a message from Tony, so that's where you start. Your suspicions are confirmed when you click on the text and your phone fills with a magazine, a picture of Bruce and Natasha filling the cover.

Your stomach lurches. The media had almost forgotten about you and Bucky, now they'd be talking about this for weeks.

Under the picture, Tony typed:

_**Tony:** I'm sorry, kid. Is there anything I can do?_

You exit out of the conversation and continue scrolling. A few messages under Tony's, you find one from Bucky and one from Bruce. 

_**Bucky:** Doll, I'm sorry you're going through this. If you need a hideaway, you know where I am._

All you want is to reply to Bucky–spend today getting lost in him. Instead, you read Bruce's message.

_**Bruce:** I know this isn't fair. Can we get together? Talk about all this?_

You continue ignoring the world, instead going to check your mail. 

It's a few days after the meeting with the lawyers, and an envelope has shown up in your mailbox. One envelope–a fitting end to your marriage. All your heartache stopped with the printing of some paper–it all seems so easy now, when it had suffocated you then. 

You're not sure if it's the divorce papers in your hand or the photo of Bruce and Nat, but something makes you text Bucky.

_**Y/N:** I just might take you up on that. Is now okay?_

It only takes a few seconds for a reply to come through.

_**Bucky:** Now's perfect_

Soon enough, you're in front of that old familiar door. When it opens and you see Bucky again, it's like no time at all has passed. He looks just the same–kind eyes, easy smile–you don't know what you were thinking, staying away this long.

It's a needy thing, the way you crash into Bucky. You kiss desperately, trying to convey how much you've missed him. He walks you towards his room, gets his hands tangled in your shirt. He wastes no time yanking it over your head, and laying you flat against his bed. He trails kisses down your neck. You feel his teeth graze your skin, and a warning is already on the tip of your tongue when you realize you don't need it. Bucky must think the same thing because he sinks his teeth into your pulse point, sucks a mark there. He glances up at you, smirks.

"You've got no idea how long I've wanted to do that." He chuckles.

Back to kissing you, his path veers toward your chest, trails over your breasts until he can take a nipple between his lips. He swirls his tongue around the nub, laves attention there until your stomach flips. He releases your nipple with a pop, moves to give the other one the same treatment then continues his path downward. He hooks his thumbs in the waist of both your pants and underwear, pulls them down your legs. He crawls back up, stopping only to kick his pants off. He rocks his hips against your center, lets you feel him.

"Doll." He grins, kisses you. "Please?" He noses along your throat. "Please let me."

You nod. "Yes. Please, Bucky."

Your answer is enough for Bucky. There's a beat and Bucky is pushing inside you. 

Whether he's kissing you or only breathing against you, Bucky's lips never leave yours as he fucks into you. Your orgasm starts in your core, a nagging buzz, spreading outward–you feel it in every inch. As you shake apart, you can feel the heat of Bucky's own release.

After, as you look at Bucky laying there asleep, peaceful smile on his face, you can't help but think back on your relationship with Bruce. At one point, you had loved Bruce–of course you had. Nobody gets married imagining they'll cheat on their spouse. What was to stop your love with Bucky from turning into that? What would you do if it did? 

You can't chance it–can't take the risk. It churns your stomach to even think about it. As quietly as you can, you crawl out of Bucky's bed, find your clothes, and slip out his front door.

You fall asleep that night with a broken heart.

In the morning, you're woken up by knocking on your door. You inch your way towards the door, peep through the hole, and find Bucky. 

He looks disheveled–eyes rimmed red, hair sticking up at odd angles. You don't want to open the door, but the sight tugs at your heartstrings. 

"Bucky…"

He shoulders his way inside, refusing to let you keep him in the hall.

Bucky paces across your living room. "I fell asleep last night completely in love, totally secure, so imagine my surprise when I woke up alone." He stops, stares right at you. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid," you whisper. "What if…what if what happened with Bruce happens with you?" 

Bucky starts to reach for you but stops short. "Listen, I can't imagine that ever happening, but‐"

"I didn't either back then-"

"Doll." Bucky smiles. "Let me finish, yeah?"

You nod.

"I can't imagine that happening, but it could, sure." Bucky shrugs. "That doesn't mean trying isn't worth it. If I've learned anything in my life, it's that life is fragile." Bucky smiles, shakes his head. "It can all be taken from you in an instant." Bucky reaches out and takes your hands. "I know you're afraid, I don't blame you. But don't let it steal your life away." There's something close to desperation in his eyes now. "Don't wake up one day and regret that you made your choice out of fear."

"Bucky, I don't know…"

"Baby." He releases your hands, instead cupping your face. "It's worth the risk. It is. The pain might come." Bucky nods. "It might. But what happens in the meantime? That's life–the good, the bad, and the ugly of it. And if the pain never comes?" Bucky smiles, shakes his head a little. "You get the happy ending. So, doll, please reconsider. Please."

There are tears in your eyes when Bucky quiets. You realize he's right. Living life only trying to avoid pain is nothing but a half life. 

You nod frantically. "You're right. I want a life with you, I want," you pause, smile softly. "I want the happy ending."

Bucky grins and captures your lips. You kiss for a long time before Bucky pulls away, only a bit, murmurs against your lips. "You wanna go to breakfast?" He kisses you again, quickly, almost like he can't help it. "Let me take you out. Just like a real date."

You smile. "I'd love to."

Maybe someday you can mend your relationship with Bruce, behave like civilized people and be cordial with each other–today is not that day. Today, Bucky is holding your hand, taking you to breakfast–just like a regular couple–and that's all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! if you liked it, you can follow me on tumblr @blueberrythor


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